Floo Powder
by Laser Lance 720
Summary: Ignatia had plans for her life. They just weren't the plans her mother wished for her.


Written for Triwizard Tournament (Task Three, Historical Figures: Ignatia Wildsmith)

-oOo-

She'd always been seen as plain, boring, a little homely. At a time where women were meant to be beautiful, poised and perfect, Ignatia just wasn't so. She was tall, lean, appearing frail. Her nose was slopped heavily, her eyes large and curious, and hair long and string like. She spoke with a loud volume, often being mistaken for a man. The youngest of three daughters, Ingatia knew that being given away as a perfect Pureblood bride was not in her future.

But she didn't want that life anyway.

She hated that every one compared her to her perfect sisters. Cassiopeia, the eldest, as white as a China doll and just as fragile, a quite Hufflepuff who never spoke against anyone. She'd been married off before even completing Hogwarts. Annie, built like a dancer and just as graceful, she'd had suitors banging down the Slytherin's door, all eager to take her as her bride. She'd married at sixteen.

And here was Ignatia, having just let her twentieth birthday slip by unnoticed, and still her finger was bare. Not that she was complaining. A man would only wish her to stop. Make her commit to him and only him like the good little Pureblood her parents wanted her to be. She was not going to. She had work to do, a project at hand and nothing would slow her down.

Her mother had been furious when she put career before work. There'd been so much screaming, hurtful words passed between both of them as she belittled her daughter, compared her to the perfect sisters she just couldn't measure up to. Ignatia had hated it. Hadn't spoken to her mother since.

As she chopped up the roots before her, she forced the thoughts from her mind. There wasn't time to dwell on such negative thoughts. There was still so much work to do.

The knife slipped, slicing a corner of skin from her fingertip. Letting out a soft hiss, she moved to bandage it up. As the cloth staunched the blood, she glared down at the ruined potion in the cauldron. She could see the drops of blood dispersing into the silky green liquid. It was ruined. All of it. All the work, all the time spent and it was no longer use able. Dropping the cloth onto the table, she vanished the contents.

Glancing at her cabinet, she realized she out of a few ingredients. She'd need to make a run. Grabbing her coat, Ignatia frowned. She was so close, she didn't have time for running errands. Briefly she considered sending the elf out, but didn't want to take the risk of him grabbing the wrong things.

-oOo-

The apothecary, was fairly empty when she entered, only a few people milling about. Pulling her robes close as she moved towards the counter. The man in front of her was arguing with the one behind the counter. She waited a bit away, eyes scanning over the moving plants along the walls. After a few moments the man left, shoving passed her without any more than a glance.

"What can I do you for Ignatia?" The man at the counter eyed her carefully, a frown on his lips. She stepped up to the counter.

"I need everything on this list." She handed him the parchment, not saying another word on the matter. The man took it, frowning even further. He tossed her a glance, before exiting out the back. Ignatia waited until he came back a rough five minutes after.

Dropping the bag on the counter, her rang her up.

"Fifteen Galleons." She handed over the payment. "You want to tell me what you're up to?"

"Not yet." She took her purchase in hand.

"Okay." He shrugged, dropping the change in the requester. "I wish you luck."

She thanked him and left.

-oOo-

It must have been her hundredth or so attempt. The cauldron she was using had begun to flake and pale after so many uses. But Ignatia didn't let this discourage her. She vanished the contents and moved to restart; she wanted to get back to work as quickly as she could.

This was not possible as a knock rang through her home. Frowning heavily, she left her project for later, moving from her lab and into the hall. She threw the door open, frowning at the woman in front of her.

"My God." The woman sniffed. "Would it hurt to put a little foundation on. Your skin looks so pale. An not a good kind either."

"Its lovely to see you to mother." Ignatia spoke through gritted teeth. "To what do I owe this please?"

"Watch the tone." Her mother scolded. "Are you going to invite me in?"

Ignatia stepped to the side, letting her mother pass through. As she closed the door, she imagined the woman being locked on the other side, out of her house. Oh how she would have wished it so.

"You need to dust." Her mother's voice came from the front room. Ignatia moved toward it. The woman stood in the center of the small room, her skirts pulled close as if worried of some dirt that may have been on the floor. "I mean really. When you said you wished to move out of the house, I had hoped you would have taken better care of yourself. Where is that house elf of yours?"

"I have Gibbs on other errands." Ignatia replied. She looked around her home, snickering darkly at the fact that it was all in perfect place. There wasn't a pillow out of place. Leave it to her mother to find something to complain about though. "Now, is there a reason you came to visit?"

"Can't I just come to see my youngest child?" They both knew that was a lie. "Alright. I have an offer for you. A marriage proposal has come your way."

"No." Ignatia declined firmly. "I have told you this time and time again mother. I will not marry."

"Do you plan to be a spinster the rest of your life?"

"I have more important thing to deal with than marriage."

Her mother scowled. "Do you mean those potions? Oh Ignatia, when are you going to grow up. You can not spend the rest of your life meddling with those things. It its a poor mans occupation. It is not a life for a woman to lead. Especially not one of your birth."

"I am doing good work with these potions." Ignatia countered. "I am so close mother to finishing."

"Finishing what?" The tone in her mother's voice spoke of her disinterest in whatever it was her daughter was doing.

She knew her mother didn't care, but hoped that if she explained it, maybe shed understand. "There's a plant, called the Floo plant, its powder can provide me the final ingredient to-"

"Enough." Her mother held up gloved hands. "I don't want to hear about this, this Floo powder of yours. You are twenty Ignatia. You aren't getting any younger. You should have been married, had children by now. Yet here you are, playing around with these plants. I will not have it. I came here today to tell you of this marriage proposal. Its the only one you have had in awhile, and most likely one of the last you will receive. If you don't take it, I doubt you'll have the offer again."

"That is fine." Ignatia crossed her arms over her chest. She stepped forward, towering over her mother. "As I have said, I don't wish to marry."

"If you do this," her mother warned, "that will be it. I will no longer provide for you. You will be cut off as far as I am concerned." The threat hung in the air. Ignatia stepped back frowning angrily at the woman.

"Go ahead." She kept her voice voice straight. "I don't need you any way."

"You'll have nothing." Her mother was shocked by the lack of reaction she'd been given. "You'll have no one. How will you take care of yourself?"

"I have a job." Ignatia steeled herself against her mothers gaze. "At the hospital. I've been working in their potions division. And as soon as I figure out this Floo potion-"

The elder woman scoffed. "You have one week. One week Ignatia. Accept the marriage, or leave this family."

Her mother marched from the room, door slamming as she left. A crack of magic came from the opposite doorway. Whirling around, Ignatia spotted her house elf. He stood in the doorway, ears large and draped downwards. He was young. "Gibbs has returned mistress. Is there anything I's can get for mistress."

"A cup of tea." Ignatia nodded. "Take it to my lab."

-oOo-

The end of the week came faster than she had expected. A letter had been deliverer to her via owl, finalizing her new disownment. She had crumbled it into a ball, tossing it into the flames. There was more important things to deal with.

Carefully extracting the pollen from the Floo plant, Ignatia allowed the final ingredient to be placed into the cauldron. She stirred it slowly, feeling it begin to shift.

Pulling the wooden spoon out, she stepped back, breathing a sigh of relief. Sweat ripped from her brow. She brushed it away.

A total of a year and a half she'd been working on this project. It had taken quite a long time, but the result would be worth it. Glancing at the piles of herbology and potions texts, she prayed that this was the batch she would need.

Stepping back up to the cauldron, she moved to stir it, but froze. The murky liquid had turned a shiny green. And it was no longer just a liquid. It reminded her of grits, the solid bunches overtaking the liquid. She began to stir, helping to further solidify the ingredients.

It had worked. In front of her was the powdered substance she had desired.

"Gibbs." The house elf appeared, asking what she desired. "Remove the text books and put them back onto the shelf."

"Yes mistress." The elf moved to do so.

Ignatia glanced up at the fire place as she ran a finger through her creation. Not looking away she spoke, "and bring me a pot of tea. Ginseng."

"Yes mistress."

Ignatia smiled as she took her fingers from the shimmering powder. The first step was complete.

Now it was onto step two - the practical application.


End file.
